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A fried peanut butter and banana sandwich. Image courtesy of Flickr user pkingDesign.

The peanut butter and jelly sandwich is a classic lunchtime staple that will be popping up in school cafeterias this fall. (Well, unless you go to a school that has a wholesale ban on nut products because of student allergies.) Initially, peanut butter and other nut butters were championed by vegetarians who used the product to create mock meat dishes, while non-vegetarians seem to be the ones who pounced on peanut butter’s potential as a sandwich spread. The sandwich itself became a popular food in the United States in the late 19th century, and the first known recipe for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich was published in 1901. Although this is the most mainstream combination of peanut butter with another sandwich filling, there are other, fascinatingly strange permutations to be had. Will one of the following crop up in your lunchbox any time soon?

Fried Peanut Butter and Banana: Outside of your standard PB&J, this may be the most famous peanut butter sandwich out there. It’s most frequently associated with Elvis Presley, although his penchant for this sandwich—peanut butter and mashed banana and pan fried until golden brown—might be a bit exaggerated. “He didn’t eat that many,” Joe Esposito, a close friend of Presley’s, recalled in a biography on the king of rock ‘n roll. “That peanut butter and banana sandwich thing was a treat for him once in a while. He didn’t eat five or six of them, he ate one—they’re very filling.” For those wanting to try this, some recipes call for mashing the banana, others say to slice and arrange the fruit on the bread, while other variations include lettuce and fried bacon.

Fool’s Gold Loaf: If the legend is true, this is Elvis’ other peanut butter sandwich. The story goes that a Graceland guest described an incredible sandwich the guest had tasted at the Colorado Gold Mine Company near Denver. A loaf of Italian bread was hollowed out and filled with a jar of creamy peanut butter, a jar of jelly and a pound of sliced and fried bacon. The whole thing was then either warmed in an oven or deep fried. Elvis supposedly hopped a private jet out to Denver, where the restaurant owner delivered the coveted sandwiches—which are said to cost $49.95 a pop—to the airport. Whether or not the story is true, recipes for this hunka hunka sandwich do indeed exist. Eat at your own risk.

Novelty Sandwiches: So reads a chapter subhead in the 1953 edition of the Better Homes and Gardens New Cookbook. When I hear the phrase “novelty sandwich,” I think back to my mom using cookie cutters to make fun shapes out of a PB&J sandwich. But in this particular cookbook, a novelty sandwich can be the blending of peanut butter with mayonnaise, a combination that is then spread on whole wheat bread and topped with shredded carrot. (Sadly, the book does not suggest an appropriate aspic to serve with this sandwich.) But this isn’t some piece of freak cookery that came about during the mid-20th century’s age of occasionally questionable taste. An 1896 sandwich recipe also recommended the marriage of peanut butter with mayo.

Peanut Butter and Cheese Curls: The brave souls who report NPR’s Wait Wait Don’t Blog Me “Sandwich Monday” series gave this one a go: peanut butter and cheese curls on a bun. The verdict? Not a far cry from the peanut butter and cheese cracker sandwiches. (They also tried peanut butter as a hamburger garnish. However, I don’t think the paltry proportion of peanut butter relative to ground beef can qualify this culinary oddity as a bona-fide peanut butter sandwich.) This pairing of flavors also dates back to peanut butter’s burgeoning days as the sandwich spread of choice and was served in upscale New York tea rooms. Whether you prefer sliced cheddar over cheese curls comes down to what kind of texture you prefer in your sandwiches.

SPAM Kahuna: The Nutropolitan Museum of Art may be a whimsical mesh of marketing and artistry from New York sandwich shop Peanut Butter and Company—or it may be a serious attempt to get you to think outside the lunchbox when it comes to constructing a peanut butter sandwich. In this edible ode to the 50th state, how well do you think SPAM, pineapple and peanut butter would complement each other? (And I’m hoping the peanut butter and PEZ sandwich is just a joke.)

What to do with the corn from your local market? Image courtesy of Flickr user Like_The_Grand_Canyon

Between high fructose corn syrup, corn starch and corn-fed meat, most Americans eat far more corn—at least indirectly—than they realize. But the best way to eat the stuff, of course, is fresh off the cob. We’re talking real fresh, as in within hours of being picked, if possible, before the sugars have a chance to turn to starch. (Unprocessed grain corn, the kind that ends up in packaged food or fed to animals, is a different variety from sweet corn and is inedible, or at least highly unpalatable, to humans.)

I could eat an ear or two of corn, simply slathered in butter and lightly sprinkled with salt, every day of summer. But that would be like telling Shaun White he had to choose either snowboarding or skateboarding, despite excelling at both, or limiting Ben Franklin to a single pursuit of inquiry. Why squelch such potential greatness?

Here are five other ways to let corn shine:

1. In salads. Good corn doesn’t even need to be cooked to add sweet, crunchy flavor to salads. Blogger Heather Christo simply tosses the kernels with cut up mango, cherry tomatoes, scallions and a Mexican-inspired dressing. HoneySage’s recipe for Fresh Corn Salad with Spicy Shrimp and Tomatoes calls for only the briefest of cooking. Summer Corn Salad from 101 Cookbooks includes pepitas (pumpkin seeds) and sunflower seeds and what Heidi Swanson describes as lemonade vinaigrette. And She Simmers explains a simple Thai snack of fresh corn and raw shredded coconut meat; the recipe is accompanied by a poignant recollection of the author’s late mother.

2. In soup. Most Americans give hot liquids a rest in summer, but fresh corn soup is worth making an exception for, or saving for a cool late-season evening. Especially when it includes grilled poblano chiles, as suggested by the Cooking Photographer. For a heartier bowlful, go for creamy corn chowder packed with potatoes—the Reluctant Gourmet offers a vegetarian version, or add bacon, as demonstrated at Kitchen Catharsis.

3. With sage. Corn and sage, like tomatoes and basil, are a combination that always works well together. Gluten Free Cooking School pairs them in Savory Sage Corn Cakes. Food 52 shares a recipe for Corn Risotto with Anchovy Sage Leaf Bite. And KitchenDaily keeps it simple with Sautéed Corn with Brown Sage Butter.

4. With its sisters. The classic example of companion planting is the Iroquois tradition of the three sisters—corn, beans and squash. These three crops complement each other both in the garden and at the table. The blog Tigers & Strawberries sticks with a dish that also originated with Native Americans (and made famous by Sylvester the cat)—succotash, a simple mélange of corn, lima beans, zucchini and seasonings. A contributor at RecipesTap included international influences in Three Sisters Fritters, combining corn, fava beans and zucchini blossoms with tarragon butter and cayenne yogurt dipping sauce.

5. Don’t forget dessert. Considering its natural sweetness, it’s surprising that corn doesn’t feature in more desserts. Brazilians have the right idea, simmering it in coconut milk and cinnamon to make corn pudding. A recipe at Taste of Home transforms fresh corn into dessert crepes topped with lemon cream and apricot jam. But the perfect summer dessert might be sweet corn ice cream—the Kitchn gives a simple recipe.

Green beans. Image courtesy of Flickr user Wally Hartshorn

Green beans are a workhorse vegetable: nothing flashy, rarely the star, but always dependable in a supporting role. They’re versatile, too—they’ll work well with just about any cuisine—which is a good thing, since I am probably not alone in having a mountain of them growing in my garden right now. They’re also abundant at the market, farmers’ or otherwise.

To prove their versatility, here are five out-of-the-ordinary ideas for cooking with green beans, each from a different culture:

1. Southern. Bacon grease “brings out the best in folks—and beans,” writes Christy Jordan on her Southern Plate blog, in a recipe for sweet and sour green beans that also includes vinegar and sugar. Unless you’re a stickler for authenticity, you don’t even have to “cook the living mess” out of them, as Jordan explains that Southerners are wont to do.

2. Greek. Ask three Greeks how to cook green beans and you’ll get three different fasolakia recipes, as recounted in an amusing tale at the site Mama’s Taverna. Most of them (including this one) involve stewing the beans in tomatoes, onions, and sometimes potatoes until sweet and tender.

3. Persian. In Iran, a kuku (or kookoo) is a popular frittata-like egg dish, packed with herbs and/or green vegetables. The Persian food blog Turmeric and Saffron uses those signature spices in a recipe for green bean kookoo.

4. Indian. The Book of Yum compiles gluten-free vegetarian recipes from around the globe. But an Indian-inspired dish of “ambrosial green beans,” with a spiced cashew-yogurt sauce, would appeal to even those without dietary restrictions.

5. Chinese. Dry-fried green beans or long beans are a common feature on Chinese restaurant menus. The cooking method results in ultra-flavorful beans that retain their snap— Cooking with Amy explains how to make them at home.

Rhubarb is delicious. Image courtesy of Flickr user Haikugirl

I’ll admit that, like most, I take my rhubarb in strawberry-rhubarb pie. I think the best pie I have ever had came from a little country store called Heart ‘N Hand just outside of the town of Skaneateles in the Finger Lakes region of New York. My husband and I ceremoniously sliced into it two summers ago on our wedding day.

But whenever I see rhubarb in the grocery store, I am instantly reminded of another delicious memory—my first encounter with the rosy stalks. I think I was maybe 12 years old, with my mom at a farmer’s market, when she bought me a bundle. I chomped into a stick like it was celery, and my face puckered from its tartness. I liked the taste. Plus, there was something so Laura Ingalls about gnawing on the raw stalks.

If you are thinking about picking up a bundle (as I now am!) or have some rhubarb in your garden or CSA box that you don’t know what to do with, I did a little research. Of course, there are plenty of baked options (pie, cobbler, crisp, even muffins), but my intent is to offer up a few more unusual options.

1. Raw: Before you do any cooking with rhubarb, you ought to at least try it raw. (Note: Be sure to remove all the leaves, as they are poisonous.) Many suggest dipping the stalk in sugar or some other sweet, such as honey, maple syrup or agave nectar, to mellow its tartness a touch. Sprinkling diced rhubarb over yogurt or cereal is an option too.

2. Stirred: Rhubarb, like cranberries, can add a tart zing to a smoothie, and if you puree the vegetable, it can be added to a margarita as well. Celebrity chef Jamie Oliver suggests making a jam by slicing rhubarb and cooking it with a couple tablespoons of water, blending and cooling it, and then adding champagne or prosecco for a rhubarb bellini. For a tasty nonalcoholic beverage, Serious Eats starts out by making a similar rhubarb syrup but instead adds it to freshly-steeped iced tea, topping it off with strawberries.

3. Smothered: Rhubarb sauces, chutneys and salsas add a unique flavor to savory dishes. Food writer (and occasional Smithsonian contributor) Kim O’Donnel says that rhubarb chutney—a good way to make use of rhubarb before it wilts—complements salmon, trout, roast chicken, turkey, duck and pork chops. It sounds easy too. She cooks one-inch pieces of rhubarb with orange juice, vinegar, brown sugar, ginger, cinnamon and dates.

A surprisingly butterless recipe from Paula Deen for grilled chicken with rhubarb salsa calls for a salsa that mixes together rhubarb, strawberries, jalapeno, lime juice, cilantro and olive oil. Yum! But perhaps the most creative condiment is rhubarb aioli, which award-winning chef Vitaly Paley of Paley’s Place in Portland, Oregon, pairs with pork. He folds a rhubarb reduction into his homemade garlic mayonnaise.

4. Roasted: Raw julienned rhubarb can be added to a garden salad, but several recipes I have found instead suggest roasting chunks of rhubarb on a baking sheet drizzled with honey or sprinkled with sugar for about five minutes, letting them cool and then tossing them in with greens. These same recipes (example: from Martha Stewart) recommend a killer combination of rhubarb, toasted walnuts, goat cheese, arugula and fennel.

5. Dried: This one is rather time-intensive, and requires a dehydrator, but the fruit-roll-up-loving kid in me likes the sound of the rhubarb leather one commenter on Backpacker.com describes. Basically, to make it, you cook rhubarb in water, with a cinnamon stick, and add sugar to taste, until it is the consistency of applesauce. Then, you pour it into dehydrator trays lined with parchment paper and dry at 135 degrees for nine hours.

Delicious looking watermelons, courtesy of Flickr user whologway

If watermelon were a brand, it would be a very successful one. First of all, it has a name that tells you exactly what it is—at more than 90 percent water, it’s the juiciest fruit going. It has attractive packaging. Plus, it’s got impeccable timing. It doesn’t even bother making an appearance until summer really heats up and all anyone wants is something cool, sweet and hydrating. If they could only figure out that seed problem. (Sorry, so-called seedless watermelons are neither truly seedless nor, in my experience, as good as the original.)

The best way to eat watermelon? Straight up, by the wedge, bare feet dangling into a pool, lake or other body of water. But here are five other pretty good ideas:

1. Salads. It’s Greek. It’s salad. But it’s not Greek salad. Toss together some watermelon with feta cheese and olives and you’ve got the basics of a classic Aegean summer dish. For a twist: Grill the watermelon, as Recipe Girl does, to caramelize the sugars. Jacques Pépin adds fresh mint and Tabasco sauce. The Food Section gives equal billing to another quintessential summer fruit, tomatoes. Bobby Flay takes it in a Southwestern direction by swapping in jicama instead of olives and feta and adding lime juice.

2. Drinks. Watermelon is practically a beverage already, but it’s also a natural in cocktails and nonalcoholic drinks. You can mix up a Mexican-style agua fresca with lemon juice and mint. What’s Cooking in America makes the novel suggestion of blending watermelon puree with rosewater and lime juice. Imbibe magazine offers a spicy watermelon margarita recipe for those who like that hot-cold, salty-sweet combination. Or just cut to the chase and spike the whole melon with vodka (recommended only if you have a large group of friends to help finish it off).

3. Soups. The most ubiquitous summer soup isn’t necessarily made with tomatoes; a watermelon-cucumber gazpacho from Salon comes with a Spanish cultural history lesson. I’m intrigued by the addition of buttermilk and rosewater (apparently not as novel an ingredient as I thought) in a Bulgarian chilled watermelon soup. Thai-spiced watermelon soup with crabmeat from Epicurious also sounds delicious.

4. Dessert. Watermelon only needs the slightest nudging to be taken into the dessert category—Wicked Good Dinner explains how to make a watermelon granita by simply freezing the pulp with some salt and sugar and adding fresh basil. “Watermelon” ice cream pie is adorable but it’s made with lime and raspberry sherbet; Emeril Lagasse offers a recipe for real watermelon-flavored ice cream with chocolate chips (they look like seeds).

5. Pickled. You don’t have to be a freegan to want to minimize food waste. Why throw away all that watermelon rind when it only takes a couple of days or so to turn it into pickles? Seriously, according to The Bitten Word, they’re not very complicated to make, and if you’ve never tasted sweet-sour pickled watermelon rind you are missing out on one of the triumphs of southern pickling. Pickled pig’s feet, on the other hand, I’m not so sure about.